Chapter 8
My parents didn’t give up. They followed behind in their car, trailing me all the way to campus.
When they saw me head into the university to meet up with my old labmates, they scrambled to catch up, but the security guard at the gate stopped them cold.
They called after me, but I ignored them and kept walking. So they stood outside, helpless, watching the gate.
The winter that year was brutal-wind slicing like blades—but no matter how cold it was, it couldn’t compare to the winter I was thrown out of the house. No winter since had come close.
That night, I had dinner with my professor and the old crew at a nearby restaurant. By the time we stepped back out into the night, it was three, maybe four in the morning.
I was about to hail a cab and crash at a hotel, but then I spotted a familiar car parked just down the street. Same one that had been tailing me all day.
My father put out a cigarette and walked up, trying to smile. “You done eating? Come home with us tonight. We cleared out the best room in the villa for you.”
My mother came over with a scarf in hand, gently looping it around my neck. “You’re dressed too thin. You’ll catch a cold. I made this for you-please, wear it.”
I turned them both down flat. “Don’t follow me anymore. I’m not coming back. Go find Carson and make him your son.”
Their faces drained of color. They didn’t move, just stood there like statues.
I left that same day, flew back to the city where I now lived.
But they didn’t stop. No matter where I went, they found a way to follow. They even started throwing money at me.
My mother bought a villa in the heart of the city. She pushed the deed into my hands whether I wanted it or not. “Take it, sweetheart. Just take it. This is from your mother, from my heart.”
My father had five luxury cars delivered right to my office building. “Jason, I’m sorry. Take the cars. Drive a different one every day if you want.”
Carson, for his part, became such a headache that they eventually had him committed to a psychiatric hospital. No one knew how long he’d be locked up. Word was, he was getting electroshock therapy.
After a while, I stopped resisting. What was the point?
Time passed.
I met someone. A good woman. We decided to get married.
A few days before the wedding, Jessica showed up, red-eyed and frantic. “Jason,” she said, “are you seriously leaving me? I broke off the engagement with Carson. I’ve been waiting for you ever since. I thought you were mad, that’s why you didn’t reach out. But why… why are you marrying someone else?”
I looked her in the eyes.
“I love the woman I’m with. I’ll never be with you. You don’t need to care about that old engagement. You didn’t seem to care back then, when you were with Carson. Isn’t that right?”
I stood up and walked away. She just stood there, pale and silent, frozen in place.
After that, she disappeared. Never came looking for me again.
1/2
Chapter 8
On my wedding day, I didn’t invite my parents.
+15 Bonus
They didn’t dare show up openly, so they watched from the sidelines. I saw them, standing at the edge of the venue like ghosts.
After the ceremony ended, my mother pulled my bride aside and pressed an envelope full of money into her hands.
Her eyes were red. “This is from me… for after the wedding. Please, take good care of Jason. Live a good life together.”
My wife blinked, confused. “But… who are you?”
I had always told her I was an orphan.
I stepped in. “No idea. Probably someone’s elderly relative who wandered into the wrong place.”
I pushed the envelope back into my mother’s hands and walked away with my wife.
Two years later, we had our first child.
My wife would take the baby out in the stroller to get some sun.
One day she rushed home, looking shaken.
“Jason,” she said. “There’s some creep in the neighborhood. Keeps following me and the baby. Every time we go for a walk, they’re there. They keep saying they’re the child’s grandparents. They want to hold her. Today they forced this into my hands- look!”
She held out a big, heavy, emerald necklace.
I didn’t panic. Just picked up my teacup and took a sip. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.”
I went downstairs. Sure enough, there they were-my parents, waiting by the garden.
When they saw me, their faces lit up with something like fear and hope tangled together. I hadn’t spoken to them in years.
I stood still, my tone flat. “No matter what you give me, it won’t change anything. I’m not accepting it. Not now, not ever.”
My mother quickly waved her hands.
“It’s okay! It’s okay. We’re just happy you’re willing to see us. We won’t ask for more.”
My father stepped forward too, anxious. “We just want you to be happy. Raising a child is expensive. Let me transfer a million to your account, no strings.”
I rubbed my temples, sighing. “You’re really going to keep doing this? You’re old now. Why not just stay home and live your lives?”
They spoke in unison. “No way! We’ll follow you until you forgive us!”
My goodness. Will this ever end?
